The Locksmith

she would bet her life they would keep going all the way, intent on stealing the prize in the form of the rolls of cash in her safe.
‘Gentlemen,’ she said. ‘I’ll get you the money but put yer guns down. You’re makin’ me nervous and I might forget the combination . . .’ She smiled, knowing the effect it would have on them.
She sensed, like an animal scenting its prey, that they were rattled. Though she could only see their eyes, slits inside their headgear, she noticed their gazes were darting around the room, edgy and wild. She knew they were expecting her – a woman – to panic, to scream and faint, but that wasn’t her style. She was the calm negotiator, the steely head that had faced down bigger villains than these two scruffy chancers. They had no idea who they’d come up against. Ruby was no longer the innocent young woman she’d once been. Every second that went past was giving her a creeping advantage.
Reluctantly, both men put down their guns. Ruby, satisfied by their acquiescence, allowed herself a small smile as she slowly began to move to the back of the room, turning her back on the gunmen. Her expensive heels clicked against the marble, the only sound except for the rasp of the men breathing inside their menacing balaclavas. Not exactly beachwear. A balaclava on a scorching hot day was another sign of their need for this money. Why torment themselves unless they had to?
Each step she took brought her closer to the family safe. Now no one breathed. The air was turgid, the heat overpowering. She leaned forward and pushed aside an abstract painting. Behind it was the large metal safe, not the only one in the plush villa, but it was the one they used most and she guessed the burglars didn’t know about the others. It wouldn’t matter anyway. A plan was forming in Ruby’s mind. Always sharp, she knew she had a split second to decide the next step.
In that moment, Ruby saw herself as if from a great distance. A woman, still beautiful, still composed, and about to make the most important move of her life. The stakes weren’t just high, they were soaring. If she got this wrong, they’d all be dead. Ruby’s mind began to clear. She saw herself as a child, sticking up for her friends at school unafraid of the bullies. She saw herself as a young woman, living a good, normal life. And she saw herself making the hard choices, always knowing she wanted more. Well, now she’d got it, all right. She had more of everything: money, glamour, danger . . .
The time had come. Ruby glanced back at the men. She caught the look on their faces, a look of expectation, of riches to come. They looked like they could almost smell their victory – and in that second she knew they’d kill her the moment they laid eyes on the money. She focused her attention back to the dial, taking a deep breath. Click. Click. Click.

PART ONE
THE DECISION
Canning Town,
London, 1990


CHAPTER 1
‘Not sausages again, Mum. Can’t we ’ave somethin’ different for once?’ groaned the teenage girl as she nudged her brother, sitting across from her at the small kitchen table.
‘Be thankful you’ve got this, Ruby,’ said Cathy Murphy, as she spooned mashed potato onto her truculent daughter’s plate. ‘You know money is tight, it’s the best I can do, love.’
Ruby gave Cathy a sad smile. ‘I know, Mum, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rub it in. It’s just sometimes I wish we could ’ave steak and chips like they have at Sarah’s . . .’
Sarah was Ruby’s best friend and neighbour. They’d grown up together.
‘You know where her old man gets his cash from, don’t ya, Ruby?’ Her brother Bobby spoke between mouthfuls of sausage, barely looking up from his plate.
Ruby gave him a withering look. ‘Course I do, I wasn’t born yesterday. He’s a blagger. That’s a bank robber to you, Mum.’ Cathy sniffed, showing her disapproval but Ruby continued, ‘Some say he’s big-time now. All I know is that Sarah wears posh dresses bought from proper shops while I’m still wearin’ dresses from Rathbone Market . . .’
Ruby looked down at the soft yellow frock she was wearing. She liked the way it contrasted with her coal-black hair and brought out her green eyes. It fitted her slim figure beautifully, though it had been second-hand. The hems were fraying – again – and she needed to replace some of the buttons down the back.
‘You look gorgeous, Rube, you always do, my darlin’,’ Cathy looked over at her, trying to reassure her daughter.
The gesture only made Ruby roll her eyes and grin. ‘You know what I mean, though . . .’
Their entire world was enclosed within the East End and the neighbouring roads next to Star Lane. Every day of Ruby’s life had been spent in these streets, surrounded by people she’d known since she was born. It was a close-knit community, but a place divided sharply into those who stayed on the honest path – working manual jobs, eking out their wages until pay day – and those who walked a very different path. Unlike her family, many of Ruby’s friends, including Sarah and the other girls she hung out with, had already turned to crime. Most of it wasn’t big stuff: hoisting or cashing fake cheques and nicking postal orders. Some of her mates’ dads did jump-ups – jumping onto lorries to steal whatever they carried, or diverting lorries and their contents by dressing up in security garb or fluorescent jackets to lure unwary drivers to offload onto stolen trolleys. From what Ruby heard, it was a trick that worked surprisingly well much of the time, but of course, the drivers might’ve taken a back-hander to look the other way.
It was how things were done. The attitude was that big firms could afford a loss here and there, so what was the harm? Those